This love will build through flights and streets
by slow down mahatma
Summary: In the end, Draco will always get the very best of Hermione. And vice versa. DMxHG, one shot, complete.


**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Ship:** Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger  
**Rating:** G  
**Status:** Complete  
**Word Count:** 1,000

**Title:** And this love will build through flights and streets  
**Summary:** In the end, Draco will always get the very best of Hermione. And vice versa.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Title is from the song "Simple As It Should Be" by Tristan Prettyman.  
**AN:** This fic is composed of ten drabbles based on the orange set from the 7rainbowprompts community at LiveJournal. Each segment is a hundred words long, no more, no less. I've indicated the specific prompt in italics before each drabble. Not arranged in any particular chronological order.

* * *

_new world_

Hermione arched an eyebrow in a severe manner reminiscent of Professor McGonagall and reminded Draco in no-nonsense tones that he had _promised _to accompany her to Muggle London to buy Christmas presents.

"You've gone batty, you're imagining things," said Draco as panic lurked underneath his elegant composure. "I promised nothingof the sort."

"Oh, yes, you did." Hermione deepened her voice in a mocking imitation of his own. "'Granger, I'm bloody sorry already'… 'Take me back, you insufferable chit, I'll do anything'… See?" she finished with a triumphant smirk. "Christmas shopping falls under the 'anything' category, last time I checked."

* * *

_sunset_

Draco wasn't a morning person. He hated the grogginess of waking, the sharp stabs of sunlight that pierced his closed eyelids. He found dawn pallid, the sky watery and too damn weak to inspire people to get through the day.

_Give me a sunset anytime, _he often thought. Rich, bold colors, a horizon blazing like fire before day gave way to night.

But one morning, Hermione woke him up with a murmured greeting and a kiss, the early light blurring into a halo around her face, and Draco decided that maybe sunrise was his favorite time of day, after all.

* * *

_oranges_

"Malfoy, could you _be_ more impossible?" Hermione threw her hands up in disgust. "It's not enough that poor Cricket has to bring you oranges--- which you can easily get _yourself--- _but he has to _peel_ them, as well?"

"But, Granger, I loathe eating the white stuff and the transparent skin stuff," Draco explained patiently. "Removing them is a tedious process. That's what house-elves are here for."

"Just for this, I've half a mind to--- to--- throw Cricket a sock!"

"Now look what you've done, woman, you made him cry. Honestly."

She sighed. "Remind me again why I'm still with you."

_trust in your heart_

"… then, of course, there is the lineage to consider. I hope you are aware, Draco, that by marrying the Mud--- _her--- _you would be putting an end to hundreds of generations of pure-blooded ancestry." Narcissa's eyes were the arctic blue shade of a treacherous frozen ocean, and just as dispassionate. "However, if you choose Pansy---"

"Mother," Draco interrupted petulantly, "I do wish at times like these that you would act like a normal parent and feed me some tripe about following my heart. Because, like it or not, when I'm with Granger I remember I actually have one."

* * *

_nail polish_

Hermione never looked more gorgeous than when forced (by Ginny, usually) to dress up, hair in a classic French twist, lips and nails the color of blood.

On these occasions Draco regarded her with intent, sidelong glances, almost hoping, even as his breath hitched at her unbearable beauty, that she'd produce a book from the folds of her stylish silk robes and start reading.

Whenever they came home, after she emerged from the bathroom with face scrubbed clean, hair tumbling in riotous, messy chestnut waves past her shoulders, he would kiss her softly, briefly, as if to say, _Welcome back._

* * *

_angel fallen from above_

"This is not a good idea."

"Oh, lighten up, Granger," Draco retorted, taking off.

"Yeah, Hermione, don't be a spoilsport," Ron chimed in. "He _wants _to crack his head open, see?"

Draco hovered high in the air above the pitch, relishing the brisk wind. He angled his broomstick just so, then plunged into a sharp, fast dive.

The execution was flawless, save for the last bit. Unfortunately, as far as Wronski Feints went, the final maneuver was the most crucial.

"Damn it, I broke my sodding _nose!"_

"He's alive, amazing," muttered Hermione, before going off to heal her idiotic boyfriend.

* * *

_fallen leaves_

Cursing under his breath, Draco dragged the rake through the grass, gathering red-gold leaves that crackled at the slightest movement and bringing them to Hermione, who serenely swept them into neat piles.

Draco leaned against a tree trunk. "Tell me, Granger, why am I doing servant's work in your parents' backyard?"

"First of all, we can't use magic in such a visible area in a Muggle neighborhood. Second of all, my parents could use the help. Lastly, I'd be mad at you if you didn't."

"Well, _that _certainly clears things up," he muttered darkly, picking up the rake once more.

* * *

_happily ever after_

The film came to an end. Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not one for these soppy _and-they-lived-happily-ever-after _fairytales."

"I'd like to see you make a better one," Hermione challenged, snuggled beside him on the couch.

"With pleasure." He draped an arm around her slim shoulders. "Once there was a boy who met the only girl who could tolerate him for long periods of time, and once there was a girl who met the only boy who found her love for Muggle romantic comedies endearing."

His lips grazed the creamy skin on her neck as he huskily whispered, "And they lived."

* * *

_harvest_

"What are you _doing?" _Draco asked, flabbergasted.

"I am," Hermione informed him in as haughty a tone as one could manage while up to one's elbows in flour, "making bread."

Draco regarded her in silence, frowning slightly as she kneaded the dough. Finally, he ventured, "Will I have to eat it?"

"Don't you _want _to?" She pinned him with a glare of waspish suspicion.

The last time he'd sampled her cooking, he'd ended up at St. Mungo's. "Of course I do," he replied.

"Good." She beamed at him, and to his complete and utter disgust he found himself grinning back.

* * *

_never was, never will be_

"Have a nice date?" Draco sneered as Hermione walked into their bedroom

She rolled her eyes. "For the last time, it _wasn't _a date. Viktor and I like to catch up when he's in town, which isn't often."

"Sure," he said sarcastically. "Right."

"Malfoy!" she chided, hanging up her coat. "I don't love Viktor in _that _way. Never did, never will." She smirked. "You're adorable when you're jealous, though."

"I am _not _jealous."

"Then you won't mind if Viktor and I go out to dinner tonight---"

"Oh, no, you don't," he growled, lunging to pull her into his arms.


End file.
